Cerberus

by John Filcher

  “Commander Toft, this is Alpha 1. We appear to have found the bridge. Other than corpses or some of their parts, no enemy contact.”

  “Roger that,” acknowledged Toft. “Secure the area and wait for Bravo and Charlie.”

  Tennyson, who had already positioned the team to secure the bridge and its connected passageways, responded, “Acknowledged. Floor is secure. Awaiting Bravo and Charlie progress report.”

  Bravo Team

  Bravo team moved aft quickly, deducing that Engineering is logically in close proximity to the engines visible on the rear of the Shanwei. Two closed hatchways appeared to lead to the rear of the vessel. Bravo 1, Cpl. Brett Mackey, a tall black man from Alabama, ordered his team to take the right side passage, according to the team’s current orientation facing the hatch.

  “Bravo 5, take us in the port side hatch.”

  Pvt. Terry Allison (Bravo 5), also from Alabama, acknowledged: “Roger that, Bravo 1.” The hatch refused to open. “No joy on open. Bravo 6, bring your breaching jaws,” he added.

  Pvt. Steve Cupper (Bravo 6) immediately moved into position with the jaws and quickly wrenched open the hatch, which had been stuck due to the slightly twisted hinges and misshapen hatchway after the missile impacts. “Breach completed,” he reported as Bravo 5 moved into the dark passageway with his weapon pointed forward.

  Seeing the long access with other connections to distant parts of the ship provided by the other side of the breach, Mackey had chosen wisely. “Jackpot, Bravo 1. Looks like we scored a long passageway,” reported Bravo 5 as he quickly floated aft down the spine of the ship. “We’ve got some obstructive debris about 300 feet in. Doesn’t look like we can clear it,” he added. “I’m going to take the ladder tube way near my position down a few levels. See if we can find another route.”

  Two clicks from Bravo 1 acknowledged the report. Allison began egress down the tube way. The first two level exits also revealed blocked passageways. “Must’ve been a helluva strike,” muttered Allison. As he looked around the exit hole on the third level, he could see some debris floating around but it still seemed passable. “Bravo 1, Bravo 5. Egress on the third level. Looks passable. Beware of floating debris.”

  Mackey replied, “Roger that Bravo 5. Egress on third level down, watch for debris. Bravo team, follow Bravo 5.” Clicks confirmed receipt of the orders.

  Allison moved slowly down the third level passage, cautiously watching for enemy activity and navigating the debris field in the dark all at the same time. He could hear his breathing and pounding heart in his ears, and his tension had skyrocketed.

  “Sweet cripes!” screamed Allison when he moved a floating obstruction to reveal a ghostly dead face behind it.

  “He’s dead, for heaven’s sake!” said Cupper.

  “Stop being so jumpy, Bravo 5,” said Mackey.

  “Been watching too many scary horror movies,” muttered Allison to himself. “Gotta stop that,” he concluded.

  They came to a wide hatchway roughly 50 yards further on, about two times the size of a normal passage. “We’ve got a double size hatchway down here, marked with what I swear looks like a pair of tool symbols that appear to be a screwdriver and a wrench.”

  Mackey smiled in his suit helmet. “Jackpot. Fleet Intel reports suggested enemy Engineering uses those symbols. I have to presume a double sized hatchway suggests this is our destination. Bravo 5 and 6, breach the hatch. Bravo 7 and 3, entry position with weapons hot.”

  Clicks acknowledged the orders.

  Allison positioned himself with good traction to pull the hatch wide as Cupper got the breaching jaws set up. With a round of nods to each other and to 7 and 3, Cupper engaged the jaws. For the first thirty seconds, there didn’t seem to be much happening until suddenly the hatch metal on the outside of the jaws bent slightly and the hatch grudgingly opened wide enough to admit the Marines if they entered single file. Bravo 7 and 3 obligingly did so, and they were followed by most of Bravo team. There were dozens of frozen corpses floating around in the cold, Zero G of Engineering.

  “Bravo 1, if this isn’t Engineering, I don’t know what it would be,” said Cupper, speaking over the radio.

  “Agreed, Bravo 6. This has to be it. We’re not reading any power signs even from in here.”

  After circumnavigating the area, Allison reported, “Bravo 1, other than the starboard engine, this room doesn’t appear heavily damaged. Reactors are cold though. Sensor reading suggests the fuel core was ejected just after impact to prevent catastrophic overload.”

  Mackey looked towards Allison for a moment, and then ordered, “Secure Engineering. Bravo 5, take three and scout for survivors or threats. Keep in contact.”

  Mackey opened a link to Toft. “Commander, Bravo 1. Engineering is secure. Minimal visible damage in the compartment, but some passageway obstructions avoided en route. Sending route map now.”

  Toft replied from the shuttle in the hangar, “Acknowledged. Alpha reports bridge secure. Hold position and await Charlie.”

  Charlie Team

  “Charlie 1, Charlie 3. No joy in here. I can’t tell what this section is supposed to be, but I can tell what it’s not and that’s Life Support. There ain’t no machinery on the other side of the hatches,” said Pvt. Henry Lee, the big, blue-eyed and raven-haired private from the mountains of Virginia, in his slight southern accent.

  “Roger that, Charlie 3. Backtrack to the access tube way about 50 feet behind you and let’s try another level,” ordered Charlie 1, also known as Cpl. Jerry Gee from Arizona.

  Lee clicked acknowledgment and retreated to the tube way. “At the tube way. Heading down now,” he reported as Charlie team reformed behind him.

  Lee floated down six more levels before finding an exit that wasn’t obstructed by wreckage. “Level six, egress clear. No tangos. Moving down passage,” he reported. Lee shone his headlamp down the dark hall as he moved, scanning each hatchway for something that might suggest it’s the Life Support section. Why the heck don’t they use intelligible symbols for stuff? Can’t make heads or tails out of this gibberish. He stopped when he came to a hatch marked with what Lee thought looked like a symbol for blowing wind. Either this is the farting room, or it’s Life Support, he thought, prying open the hatch.

  He peered into the darkened room. A few corpses were tethered to their work chairs, arms floating in the zero gravity. Lee could see some large shapes and several control consoles, so he motioned to Charlie 4, Pvt. John Kowalski from Kansas, who was holding his weapon just out of sight of the hatchway.

  Using hand signals, Lee indicated he was going in and Kowalski, who was a close quarter’s combat specialist with multiple black belts in various martial arts disciplines, needed to have his back. Kowalski nodded silently, holding his submachine gun at the ready while Lee entered the room.

  As Charlie team secured the area while the room was investigated, Lee was startled to recognize Mandarin writing that translated to English meant “Air Control System.” Who knew your goofing off minor in Mandarin would turn out to be handy some day? Other consoles marked in legible Mandarin indicated buttons for “Power,” “Flow Control,” “Vent Control,” and so on.

  “Charlie 1, Charlie 3. I think we’ve found it. I can make out Mandarin writing for flow and venting controls, and a whole console marked ‘Air Control System.’”

  Gee responded instantly, “Roger that Charlie 3. Um, how is it you think you can read and recognize Mandarin writing?” he asked, joining Lee in the Life Support section.

  “Long story, Charlie 1. You’d get bored without any pictures to help you understand it,” said Lee, who was trying to avoid disclosing the reason he could read Mandarin.

  Gee turned to look at Lee and said with a poorly hidden smirking sound in his voice, “Oh, I think there might be a story there our team might enjoy. No way would a big gorilla like you learn something more
complicated than making mud pies without a good reason.”

  A roar of laughter flooded the open radio group commlink from Charlie team. “Charlie 3, what was her name? She must have been a babe for you to go through that!” Charlie 4 quipped.

  Lee sighed and looked up in exasperation before replying, “I really hate you guys. Her name was Maryanne.” Lee’s hopes that would quell his comrades died a quick death as the commlink was filled with wolf whistles, whoops, and requests for inappropriately intimate relationship details.

  “All right, you animals, pipe down and get your heads in the game and secure this area,” yelled Corporal Gee before switching over to the command commlink.

  “Commander, Charlie 1. Life Support is secure. No visible compartment damage. Sending route map now.”

  Toft replied from the shuttle in the hangar, “Acknowledged. Alpha and Bravo have secured their objections. Wait a moment while I bring in the other team 1s.”

  Moments later, Alpha 1 and Bravo 1 confirmed they were conferenced in before Toft continued. “Dispatch scout teams to finish sweeping the ship while you maintain security over your objectives. Once the ship is secure, engineering teams from the Ike want to poke around.”

  The leaders of Alpha, Bravo and Charlie teams confirmed and dropped the conference to cascade Toft’s orders.

  Chapter 4

  War Prize

  Four days later, Captain Ronin walked into the Ike’s situation room with Toft and Lt. Cmdr. William Bryce, who grew up in Vermillion, South Dakota, where he also studied engineering at the University of South Dakota before joining the fleet. Bryce strode to the holograph projection of the Shanwei that was floating in the center of the room. He looked at Ronin while pointing to the port side rear quarter of the spacecraft in the holo.

  “Captain, we think we can jury rig the port power plant of the Shanwei and get the reactor back online to power the remaining engine on that half of the ship. Survey teams report very little damage to the port side of the ship, and since the reactor core was ejected to prevent a chain reaction overload, all we need to do is feed it some of our fuel to get it back online.”

  Ronin nodded slowly, unconsciously biting his inside cheek as he did so. “Would our fuel even work?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. Our fuel is actually far more refined than the stuff the Shanwei normally eats, so it’s much safer without all the contaminants that are present in their normal fuel,” responded Bryce.

  With a slight smile, Ronin cocked an eyebrow at Bryce and said, “Well, thanks for putting it in plain English so even I could understand it. Toft, let’s back the Ike off to a safe distance and retain an absolute minimum to crew the Shanwei while they try to breathe some life back into her.”

  Toft and Bryce both nodded to Ronin and responded in unison, “Aye, aye, captain.”

  Bryce then brought another part of the Shanwei to their attention by pointing to the center of the ship on the projection. “Here’s what I wanted to show you: this hanger amidships. Best we can tell, there’s some sort of command and control shuttle in here.”

  Bryce motioned with his hand to zoom in to the hangar to show the shuttle. “The initial boarding party couldn’t see it when they first arrived, but once they secured the ship they made note of a large oblong object in their reports. If we can crack the commlink encryption between this shuttle and the Shanwei, it could give our side a significant advantage by listening in on enemy communications. I recommend we remove this shuttle and tow it from the Ike just in case we have a catastrophic restart of the Shanwei.”

  Ronin nodded slightly and said, “Agreed. Get a flight crew over there to tow her while you and your team get ready to restart the reactors.”

  Two days passed while crews from the Ike prepped the Shanwei for reactor restart. “Captain, we’re as ready as we’ll ever be. We were able to reduce the prize crew to a half dozen volunteers for purposes of the restart,” said Bryce.

  Ronin listened to Bryce’s message, looked over at Toft, who nodded and said, “The Ike and the Shanwei shuttle are ready sir. We are standing by at a range of 25,000 miles.”

  Ronin nodded and spoke into the commlink node on his collar, “Ike and shuttle report ready. Initiate restart.”

  Bryce acknowledged and commlinked the Ike’s reactor specialist using the node at his workstation, Amy Baker, who had volunteered to come aboard Shanwei. “Specialist Baker, start the reactor.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” acknowledged Baker, in her New England accent. The medium-height redhead then looked down at the Shanwei engineering station where she had parked herself. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered, fingers crossed in her left hand while her right index finger hovered over a red glowing, touch screen button in a station powered by portable generators from the Ike. Her finger tapped the screen and the button began flashing, followed by a slight jolt. Had there been oxygen in the room, she would have heard a loud clanging sound that would have accompanied the jolt. Minutes passed while the reactor began to spin up and screen indicators on Baker’s screen reflected slowly rising power output.

  “Power at 50 percent and rising,” announced Baker over the commlink. “Power output at 75 percent, and holding steady. No fluctuations,” she observed. Overhead lights blinked on, and her suit sensors showed rising air levels in the room. “Reactor at 85 percent as planned. Helm, can you begin port engine restart?” she asked.

  “Aye, port engine ready to accept feed. Beginning ignition,” reported Lt. Felipe Mendez, the Ike’s helmsman who was now on the Shanwei’s bridge. A soft thrumming began that could be felt throughout Shanwei. “If our translation software is accurate here, port engine board is green. Looks like our repairs are holding,” announced Mendez over the commlink.

  Bryce rapidly scanned through Shanwei’s systems as they were linked to the Ike’s computers “Command data links established. Ike’s AI (Artificial Intelligence) is muscling its way into Shanwei’s computing core through the portals we hacked. Bypassing security protocols. We’re in! We have complete control of Shanwei,” stated Bryce triumphantly.

  Ronin smiled in satisfaction. “Excellent. Confirmed if Shanwei makes way using the port drive at 85% power as we discussed?” he asked.

  Bryce had continued absorbing the hacked data as it flowed in and was collated for review by Ike’s AI, and was about to answer Ronin when Ike’s AI responded first.

  “Affirmative, Capt. Shanwei’s port drive is functional enough to safely propel the ship to most destinations. The temporary repairs by the engineering crews are allowing the ship to move under its own power again although if any of the prize crew attempt to travel between Engineering and either Life Support or the Bridge they’ll have to wear an environment suit due to the lack of life support in the heavily damaged areas between Engineering and the rest of the ship.”

  Upon seeing Bryce’s annoyed look at having his report co-opted by Ike’s AI, Ronin half-smiled at Bryce and said, “Well, in fairness, I failed to specify to whom that question was addressed!”

  Bryce raised his eyebrows in response, and muttered “Aye, sir. Anyway, where would you like to drive that crate over there?”

  Ronin looked down at his chair screen, and typed in a series of coordinates before announcing, “Our destination is classified. Accordingly, I’ve entered our destination directly into Ike’s navigation system. Security protocols are engaged, which will prevent any of the crew from being able to access nav systems or identify where we’re heading unless they’re quite good at dead reckoning without the aid of computers.”

  Toft’s head, and everyone else’s, turned in surprise at Ronin’s response. “Classified? There’s a classified destination? No wonder you kept it to yourself,” noted Toft.

  Chapter 5

  Point Niner-Two-Niner

  Five weeks later, the small convoy led by the Ike approached the rendezvous coordinates known only as Point Niner T
wo Niner. Hidden in the system’s asteroid belt far from Earth, they were far from prying eyes or scopes due to distance and a heavy concentration of dust obscuring visual or sensor contact.

  Ronin looked up from his scope and glanced over to Ensign Diving Hawk, who was sitting at the main commlink station for the ship. Ashley Diving Hawk was very young and from northern Montana, where her ancestors were among the few survivors of WWII. While their former reservation had not been nuked or even suffered much from nuclear winter, the bat flu from China had nearly wiped out the tribe of her ancestors. After centuries of intermingling with other survivors, Diving Hawk’s name was the most tribal aspect of her.

  “Ensign, send a directional hail to the coordinates I sent to your screen, and stand by. Let’s see who’s out there,” said Ronin.

  “Transmission sent, Captain,” responded Diving Hawk.

  Seconds later her station beeped with an incoming reply. “We have a response already?” asked Toft. “There must have been someone camped out on the frequency,” he continued.

  “Send the response to my screen, Ensign,” ordered Ronin, who began reading his screen intently. “Fleet ships are arriving soon, ETA two hours,” stated Ronin. “We’re to hold position.”

  Two hours crawled by with sensors still fuzzed from all the interference, then Diving Hawk’s commlink system beeped with a new message. “Incoming message from the Kitty Hawk, Captain. They have us in sight and are pulling along side. Visual link established,” she said.

  “Put it on the main screen,” said Ronin, recalling that the Kitty Hawk was a newer Corvette in the fleet. A sleek and fast escort vessel for ships like the Ike, the Kitty Hawk packed quite a punch.

  The bridge’s forward screen opened to reveal a grinning image of Hu Nagun, captain of the Kitty Hawk. Nagun, a product of Oregon and a die-hard Oregon Ducks fan, was descended from a Vietnamese family that had immigrated to the United States before WWII.

  “Hello, old friend. Long trip just to bring that fifty bucks you still owe me,” he noted wryly with a crooked smile and raised eyebrow.